Love Heals
by Madame Hatter
Summary: The Bohemians have created a new life for themselves. They've buried the past, but can they keep it buried from their kids? A totally different angle. Come see if you'll love it. Incomplete.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Something I came with all of a sudden. All I ask is that you read, review,and most of all, enjoy. Thank you.**_

_Disclaimer: All Copyrighted characters are rented. _

**Chapter One**

"Candy, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Angela, I'm listening…"

"Then why do you keep looking over your shoulder?"

"Just because I keep looking over my shoulder, doesn't mean I'm not listening to you."

"Then what have we been talking about?"

Candy turned her head to her orange-haired friend and raised an eyebrow. "We were talking about Elmer Fudd."

"Elmer Gantry," corrected Angela blankly. "Would you stop looking at him?"

"I can't help it, he keeps staring at us."

"Only because you keep staring at him. I swear to God, every time we go in here, it's like the never-ending staring contest of death." Angela sighed as Candy continued to glance over to the window to the kitchen. Angela swiped at her shoulder and Candy finally gave up and turned back to her friend.

"I don't know why he keeps doing that," muttered Candy taking a sip of red wine. Angela poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher.

"He's a nice guy. He's come by to say hello before, and besides, he owns this place," assured Angela. "Everyone loves him."

"It's the way he says hello."

"Friendly?"

"Yeah… friendly…"

"You're paranoid. Candy this isn't like you, just forget it. You probably remind him of his daughter or something."

"Hmm…" Candy twisted her fork around her mash potatoes and looked at it thoughtfully. She didn't mean to be rude by staring, and she usually loved going into this restaurant, but every time, this man would smile and wink. And it wasn't perverted or come-hither like—it was just strange. And she couldn't help but think about it every time she came in here. She was starting to get a headache; her hair was in a tight bun which felt even tighter as her head continued to throb.

"Hey girls," a voice said from behind Angela. The Simmons siblings, Linda and Andrew, approached them and took a seat at their table. Linda was in a smart blue suit, the top two buttons undone on her powdered blue shirt. Andrew, the oldest, was wearing a long black coat. He hastily shoved his badge inside his pocket as he took a seat between Candy and his sister.

"Hey Candelyn," he said.

"Hi," she said smiling. He was the only person who called her by her full name, other than her parents. He somehow found attractiveness in her name, although she wasn't too fond of hearing it herself. She loved her name just fine, but being called Candelyn between friends seemed so formal.

"Oh hey Angela," he said, "I wanted to ask you, how do you think the movie 'Thistles' sound? Do you think it's worth it?"

Angela groaned. "Man, Andrew-"

"What?"

"I am NOT a film critic," she said fervently. "God, you guys turn me off movies so much by asking those questions."

"But your dad's a direc-"

"I don't think medical research has proved that career choices are heritable," snapped Angela. "Besides, he's YOUR uncle, too. Why don't you just ask him yourself?"

"Don't take that tone with me or I'll have you arrested for harassing a cop."

"Andrew, would you stop using your authority as an act of intimidation?" said Linda. "You're twenty-seven for God's sake, grow up." She removed her clip from her blonde hair and slipped it in her purse. "How is Uncle Mark anyway?"

"Successful, as usual," said Angela rolling her eyes. "The man drives me mad."

"Then why don't you move out?" asked Andrew.

"Because I feel sorry for the guy. He's still… you know." Angela tapped on the bottle of red wine which sort set Candy off her trance.

"Still drinking?" asked Linda. "Success sometimes has their costs…"

"Uncle Mark doesn't look like the type of person to drink," said Andrew. "He's so quiet and level-headed when I see him."

"You don't see him the way I see him," said Angela. "And when he's not on the bottle, he… I dunno, I started noting the differences when I was 13."

"Differences?" asked Andrew.

"You know, why he's so lonely and depressed. For a while I thought he was queer."

Linda laughed. "No." She shook her head. "Not Uncle Mark."

Angela cracked a smile, and shrugged. "Well I didn't know. But he's so helpless. If it weren't for the Davis', he'd dress as a drag. Why do you think I have such a passionate rage for men?" She gave Andrew a quick apologetic glance. "Sorry, Andrew."

"Used to it."

"How are your mom and dad?" asked Linda. Candy looked at her for a moment, lost in her own world. She wasn't paying much attention to their conversation. Most of the time, they would talk on hours end without noticing Candy. Candy didn't mind really, she understood how family was, especially when the Cohens' got together.

"They're fine."

"Are you doing okay?" asked Andrew.

It suddenly became quiet. She knew that he didn't mean to ask such a forward question, especially because of her illness. But, at twenty-one she gotten use to all that. She had gotten used to the awkward stares every time she entered a room; she had gotten used to the avoidances from people, teachers, and employers. She even began to ignore the unknown mystery of how her parents attracted the disease in the first place. Every time she asked, they would always respond, "I've always had AIDS." It didn't matter. They were all taken well cared of. Her mother was a nurse at a local clinic and her father was a car salesman. They were far from boring—always entertained anybody who was there. Her mother loved rock music, as of her father, who always made people laugh.

"I don't know how I became a cars salesman," he once said at a party, "but when I sold my fender to buy a car, I knew I had a talent for bargaining."

They were the perfect parents with a rocky edge. But they were so different from Candelyn. She hardly shared any of their interests, and they seldom shared hers. She was majoring in music: opera and ballet. Of course they supported her by going to all her school plays, community shows, but she knew they had no interest at heart. Her father freaked when he found out that he had to sit in a theatre through five acts.

"You know I love you, but five acts?" he had said. He was joking, but he couldn't believe it.

"Dad, you said the same thing at the last show. This time I'm lead. Don't worry, it'll all be over soon."

"Okay." He kissed her forehead. "So this thing is over…when?" he looked at his watch.

"When the fat lady sings," answered Candy smiling.

"Not fair—last time, there were like four fat ladies."

"Dad…"

"Candelyn?"

Candy looked up to see all six eyes staring back at her, with the usual worried expressions on their faces. She managed a smile and took a breath. "I'm fine."

They all shifted uneasily in their seats. Cohens. Such predictable creatures.

"Did you… uhh… take your AZT?" asked Angela trying to be as nonchalant as she possibly could.

"Yes, I did," replied Candy taking another sip of wine. "Is that all you ever do? Remind every New Yorker with AIDS to take their AZT?"

At the same time Angela raised her eyebrow at her and smiled, a new deeper voice entered into their discussion.

"Not every New Yorker," the voice said. Candy looked behind her and saw the same man she had been staring at towering over them. "Is everything alright? Would you folks like something to eat?" He gestured at Linda and Andrew who hadn't been served.

"You know what, that sounds wonderful," said Linda. "I'll take your special."

"Great, and you?" He looked at Andrew and grinned.

"Um… I'll have the same, thanks."

"I'll have those for you shortly. And by the way, Ms. Simmons, I enjoyed your column this week—_Fashion Today: __Très chic or grey and bleak_?"

"Thank you so much," she said and he left with the same old smile on. She waited until he was out of sight and then turned her head back.

"Is it just me or does he seem a little strange?" Linda asked.

"Yeah!" agreed Candelyn.

"Here we go," said Angela.

"He's just like any other guy in this restaurant," said Andrew.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" asked Linda.

Andrew looked at his sister as an older brother would look at his sister. "So?"

"Didn't he seem like he was coming on to you?"

"Of course."

"What?"

"Look, it's a myth that old man Tom is queer, but only the wiser ones know that the myth is true. Others just think it's some rumor, but still keep a wary eye out. What's the big deal anyway? He's not molesting anyone."

"Just strange…" said Candelyn.

"How is it strange?" asked Angela, a bit offended.

"Oh no, I don't mean it that way. I mean… I don't know." She looked at her friend earnestly. "Please don't take it that way."

"I know," said Angela sighing. "But now I'm wondering if I can request that Angie's can have a Gay's Night or something."

"Happy hour," said Linda smirking, and pouring herself some wine.

"Gay Hour," responded Angela, smiling. Candelyn moved in her seat a bit, uncomfortable with the topic. She had to admit, she wasn't at all liberal about homosexuality or things of that sort. She didn't mind it, but it did make her feel troubled at times. She was raised with going to operas and musicals, reading books, being alone in her room so much, that she was sheltered by any other topic that was considered appalling to the norms of society. She was learning to cope with it though.

A few minutes later, Linda and Andrew were served and they continued to eat and have a light conversation. This time Candelyn was included and she was happy to talk with them about what she wanted to do in life, with her future. She loved looking at the future because she always loved dreaming of what she was able to do. One of the things she loved about her parents was instilling her with the hope to do anything she could, to be the best she could, with what she wanted. And when they were through with that, Andrew and Angela continued to bicker.

"Excited about your dad's new film?" he asked.

"Ugh," groaned Angela.

"What? I happen to be a fan of Uncle's Mark's work. It's so gory and abstract," said Andrew.

"What does that tell you?" asked Angela.

"He's suicidal?"

"Or so horny that it's painful."

"Angela!" said Linda.

"Seriously, if the man doesn't get laid pretty soon, I'm hiring a prostitute and I'll even pay big money for it."

"If you need recs, there's a corner a few streetlights away with some good-looking girls of Uncle Mark's type—" Andrew was interrupted with a slap on the shoulder from his sister.

"Andrew!" she said trying to hush the both of them.

"What? I have to know these things." He turned his head back to Angela. "I also know where the drug dealers hang out if you need the good stuff."

"Look," said Angela, sighing. She lowered her voice. "It's just… I've been searching through his things—"

"Porno films, is that what you saw?" he asked.

"No! Would you listen?" she said. Candy looked at her apprehensively, unsure whether she should listen or day dream again. But her best friend looked really serious about this; it was one of the first time she ever dropped her cynical expressions when talking about her dad. She watched her tentatively.

"I was changing his bed sheets—they were drenched in beer—and I found this journal that he keeps. It's back where it belongs, but…"

"Is he… suicidal? Is he keeping something from us?" asked Linda.

"No, he's not suicidal," said Angela frustrated, "but he's definitely keeping something from us. This journal—he hasn't written in it in years. He stopped writing in it as soon as he got his camera. But he kept mentioning a girl named April."

"Maybe an old girlfriend," suggested Andrew.

"I don't know. I can't make up a lot of his chicken scratch. Great director, horrible penmanship. I didn't get anything else. He came home as soon as I made out the name."

"Did you confront him about it?" asked Candy suddenly. She just said it out of the blue. She didn't think it was right to snoop through others' belongings.

"Of course not," she replied. "What am I suppose to say? 'Hey, dad, I found your private diary and I thought I should take a look at it. Now what does the next line say?' He would get so upset."

"Well maybe we can interrogate it," said Andrew.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Would you stop thinking like a cop!"

"No it's not a bad idea," said Linda. "I mean, we don't interrogate him full on, but I'm a journalist- I can scoop out a few things."

"Wait a minute," said Candy quickly. "Why should we invade someone else's privacy that way? Give him a break."

"Candy, I want to know why my father drinks so much. Then maybe he can get some help, and I can go on with my life. You understand, right?"

Candy sighed hopelessly. She did understand. For as long as she knew her, she had been the caretaker of her father. They loved each other endlessly, but she never got the chance to live her childhood or plan out her future because she was always in her father's shadow—there to support him with his career, there to catch him when he fell. Candy's parents tried to support him as well, but he became more distant with them, although they remained the greatest of friends. Something was missing, and Angela never could get that information out of him. Candy just wanted to help out, so she nodded.

They finished their afternoon meal and decided to go back to Angela's to talk with her father. Linda coached them from the front as Andrew drove. Angela and Candy lived in a nice apartment building, quite high-classed but affordable. They approached the building, entered the elevator and waited until the door opened to the sixth floor. Angela took her key out to unlock the door but found that it was slightly opened.

"Your parents must be here," said Angela to Candy. "He never leaves the door unlocked unless there's company." She pushed it open.

Candy jumped back as she saw a stranger in the room. A woman, curly, dark hair, long and scattered all over her face in a rage. She was screaming at Angela's dad, but she was upset, almost crying. Beer bottles were seen all over the table. Angela's father stood against the wall, his glasses askew on his face.

"Has the whole goddamn world changed, Mark?" yelled the woman. She took one of the beer bottles and broke it on the edge of the table. Quickly, Andrew jolted behind the woman and tied her hands behind her back. He forced her to let go of the bottle as he cuffed her. Angela ran to her father's side, giving him a bear hug. Candy looked at Linda frightened, befuddled.

"Maureen?" Candy looked to the hallway and saw her father with an utterly confused expression. "Andrew? What's going on?"

"She was going to attack him," said Andrew.

"Andrew. Let her go."

Candy's jaw almost dropped as she heard her father say those words. Why was he protecting her?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: I'm warning you now, this is going to be different. Twist in plots, but I hope you enjoy it. Bear with me, they'll bring out their old selves soon enough. Thank you for your patience, your cooperation, and your reviews. **_

_**I also will note that this will be an interchanging point of view between Candy and her father Roger. It is now Roger's turn.**_

**Chapter Two**

"Your only day off and you're going to work?"

"I was called in, I have to go," she said hurriedly. She glanced at him and noticed his sorrow and smiled. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mi amour, this is the life we chose."

"Sometimes I wonder why we chose this life."

A bedroom door opened and another door shut from the hallway. They looked at each other and Roger laid his head on her chest.

"Oh yeah. Now I remember."

Mimi laughed. "Don't sound so disappointed. She's our pride and joy. Look what she's done for us. She's made us good, hard-working, clean people."

"She's made us caring parents. I'm not ashamed of our past," he said lowly.

"Neither am I. But what choice do we have?" She pressed her cheek against his forehead. "We all have AIDS. We couldn't have raised her to live if we didn't shape up." Roger pouted, knowing that she was right. She got herself up and patted his knee. "It sucks to be mature, huh?"

"La Vie Boheme," he said bluntly and got up to kiss his wife. "What am I suppose to do all day?"

"Watch TV," she said. Roger shook his head. Oh yeah, this is the life we chose, he thought helplessly.

"I would but it's broken," he said. She laughed and kissed him once more, a bit more passionately this time, and left. Roger sighed and stared at the television. He suddenly heard footsteps and his daughter walked into the living room.

"Candelyn, baby," he said giving her a peck on the forehead.

"Hey dad, I'm just gonna finish up a few things then I'll be on my way."

"What's the hurry?"

"I'm meeting Angela at Angie's," said Candelyn. She was scurrying around the apartment, opening and closing cabinets and closets. She stopped and looked at him standing in the middle of her escapade.

"Is there something the matter Daddy?" she asked.

Roger shook his head and smiled. "Nothing, honey." Candelyn smiled, a smile she inherited from her mother, and went over to kiss her dad on the cheek. Roger smiled and thought this life wasn't so bad after all.

"Love you Daddy," she said.

"Love you too," he echoed back. She continued with her shuffling around. "Candelyn, did you forget to take your AZT?"

It felt sort of strange hearing himself say those words. It used to be that Mark would remind him. Now the tables have turned and everything was changed. Candy looked at him and paused in her footsteps. She headed back to the kitchen counter to take her pills. Roger grinned at his parental authority and straightened his posture. He heard his daughter laugh as he strutted to the television. He pushed a few buttons, but nothing would make the television lose the snow and fuzz.

"Did you call Mark about it?" she called from the kitchen.

"Mark needs a little break. Besides, he charges way too much, and I can make things worse for no price at all." Another laugh. He loved that sound. He fiddled with some wires and finally got some decent sound.

"SAVED! There is a God!" Roger smacked the side of the black box a few times to get a picture. "Come on…" His daughter watched whole-heartedly from a few yards behind. A picture started to form on the screen.

"YES! Quien es tu papi?" He stood up, throwing his hands in the air. "QUIEN? QUIEN?" Then the lights when out. "NO!"

The lights flickered a few times, but then remained off. There was no sun out—the sky was grey and cloudless so there was no use opening the curtains.

"Would you get a candle?" he asked. She nodded and went into the hallway to fetch some candles. "Actually get several. I think it would be nice if we surrounded the place with candles this once."

"Why do we still have candles?"

"Because we're cheap."

"No we're not," she said light-humored.

"Well we should be."

Roger heard her squeal. "Can we get the vanilla scented?"

"Oh, sure, use the expensive ones."

He saw a grin plastered on Candy's face as she brought out a whole box of scented candles. She never openly admitted it, but Roger knew that she loved candles, probably because they use to always light them when she was younger. But then she started getting older, and she locked herself in her room a lot. She only came out for meals and sometimes once a week or so to just talk to them. But other than that, she became very distant. Ever since they explained to her about their AIDS… her AIDS. He and Mimi understood why she felt that way, and they decided that she needed her space. Besides, she still received good grades, and she wasn't doing any wrong, so if she wanted to be left alone, it was fine. They were still happy.

They began lighting the candles around the house. It was beautiful. The orange tint brought out the best of their home, dimming hidden corners that appeared mysterious to the eye. It was all so mystical. It hit Roger just then. It never really occurred to him before, but he just realized for that moment the life he was living in… the life they made for each other. The life full of gorgeous furniture, an actual kitchen, luxuries, computers… It was almost unbelievable. And something felt awkward. It was the smallest inkling, but something was missing. Where's my guitar, he asked himself.

"I'm off to Angie's, Dad." Roger remained silent. "My cell phone is on if you need me."

Cell phones. He never thought he'd own a cell phone. "Sure, have fun." The front door closed and Roger stood there stunned for a moment. God, what just happened in the last two decades? The phone suddenly rang, which made him jump a bit. He picked up his cell phone and answered with a hello.

"Roger? It's Mark."

"Hey Mark, how was the premiere?" Mark had flown to California for a few days for his new movie's premiere. He must have gotten back today.

"Went fine," he said. "Are you busy right now?"

"Actually, Mimi just got called in so I have all the free time in the world. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

He hung up his cell quickly and shoved it in his pocket. He quickly grabbed his coat, locked the door, and went three flights up to Mark's apartment. Good timing Mark, he thought, hopefully I'm not the only one taken aback by all this. He knocked on his friend's door. A middle-aged blonde opened it and smiled. Mark looked the same as ever, except he gained a few pounds. But not much. Surprising too because Roger expected him to have a bit of a beer belly. His friend drank a lot, but not yet to the excess of potential danger. Even if he ever steps up that ladder, Roger knew he'd be there beside him no matter what.

"How are you?" asked Mark. Roger was about to answer when he saw the table filled with beer bottles. Empty ones.

"I should ask you the same thing…" he said looking at him worriedly.

"They're months old. I'm planning to take them to the recycling center."

"An alcoholic environmentalist. Who would have thought?"

Mark squared his hands. "My next documentary."

Roger laughed. Everything was all right. He hoped. Anyway, he didn't want to complain. Mark never bothered him with his drugs back when he was doing smack, and Roger just wanted to return the favor, although it seemed like a very demoralized one. He knew Mark was mature enough to make his own decisions. Out of the both of them, Roger was definitely not the wiser. Or so he always believed.

"So going back to my first question…" they sat down on his huge tiger printed sofa. "How are you?"

"Why tiger?" Roger asked observantly, touching the fabric.

"I don't know. I got a sense of nostalgia when I saw it. Reminded me of something. And no I'm not queer."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Why would I even consider that after all we've been through? After the pain, hunger and talking until the wee hours of the night?"

"Actually, I took the liberty of making the appropriate calculations, deducted unimportant hellos, goodbyes, brief mumblings in our sleep, and figured that we've only talked for five-hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred minutes."

Roger smiled. "Is that all? Then we need some catching up to do. Why would I say you were gay?"

"Not only does the couch seem odd, but my daughter seems to think I'm queer too."

"Angela?"

"I know. I didn't have a problem with her switching teams, but when she showed signs that I…" he began to laugh. Roger grinned, happy to see him smiling again. He calmed himself down and shook his head. "How's Candelyn?"

"Wonderful. Who knew that we'd be such great parents?" He meant it seriously and jokingly. But Mark slowly raised his hand.

"I did," he said softly. Roger smiled and nodded. "It's so… strange, you know? I never knew I'd be capable of being a father and yet… she's so different. I mean, operas, ballet? We're rockers for God's sake!"

"It's not just you. It's friends, books, movies."

"I don't know if she even likes the Police!"

"Don't be so hard on her. I remember a certain guitarist religiously playing that fucking annoying tune day in and day out."

Roger thought for a moment. What? Tune…tune… "Oh, I remember." He glared at him.

"Yeah," said Mark smirking. "Musetta's Waltz, good Lord."

"My mom played it once and that's all I remember. It would be a miracle if I remembered the rest of the melody."

Suddenly they began to drift into a world of reminiscent memories, talking about the past. There were moments of laughter then moments of perturbing silence. It drifted them so far into their own little world that Roger almost forgot to ask why Mark wanted him there in the first place.

"So why did you call me up?"

"Huh? Oh." Mark took out an envelope and handed it too Roger. "Guess who?"

Roger took a look at it and his jaw almost dropped to the floor. "Maureen?"

Mark nodded. "I haven't heard from her since Angela was born, and gave Audrey the bird. I never saw her so jealous before and all I could think of was, why?"

"I remember…." said Roger. God, I remember, he thought. Audrey was the last girlfriend Mark had. He didn't love her and she didn't love him. How they were attracted to each other was still a mystery to Roger. At first they seemed great, but there was never any real chemistry. That sort of baffled Roger even more because then Angela was born… which Audrey never wanted, but Mark begged her to have the baby, so he could take care of her. Against her will, she did.

"Anyway, Maureen said she wanted to drop by, but she didn't explain why. It's not an elaborate letter at all." Roger handed him back his note. Maureen Johnson was coming to stop by…

"She's coming today."

"What?" This came to a shock for Roger. "So soon?"

"The letter was sent a week ago, but I must have missed it. I never read mail anymore especially because I'm always moving around. Actually, she should be due any minute."

They all looked toward the door, expecting Maureen Johnson to appear on the other side. Nothing.

"Damn. I thought I had that timed right," he said looking at his watch.

Roger laughed. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"What do you mean?"

"This life. This… this isn't us, is it?"

Mark smiled. "We were kids. We didn't know what the future held. God, we were struggling artists, trying to survive, and thinking how we were going to eat later on that day, where we were going to sleep."

"Your next film?"

"Actually I was thinking musical. Only this time, I'll get the girl and you get dumped by the lesbian."

Roger couldn't help but laugh at his friend's comment. It was times like these he remembered appreciating Mark as his best friend, despite the changes they've gone through. The door quietly creaked open and they both turned their heads.

"Didn't know you felt that way, Mark."

Who else but Maureen Johnson would be standing behind that door? She invited herself in, leaving the door open a bit. She had long hair, tamer, and it wasn't at all curly as Roger remembered it. She was gorgeous. Roger knew she was stage acting now, doing what she's always wanted, although she starred in a couple of films; She was also not afraid to glam it up wherever she paraded. They both stood up, speechless for a moment. It had been a long time since the three friends were in the same room.

"A hello? A how are you? A hug?" she asked.

Roger looked at Mark and gestured him to go on. Mark walked over to Maureen and hugged her warmly, something Roger hadn't seem them do since that New Year's… it reminded them of when they use to be together. Roger approached the both of them and took his turn in hugging Maureen. She smelt expensive, if expensive had a scent.

"You certainly love to cause a distraction, don't you?" asked Roger after pulling away. He was, of course, commenting on her wild clothing. A hot pink mini skirt with shiny blue knee-length boots, matching blue shirt, and a white belt tied around her waist. She also had hot pink gloves, and a white boa around her shoulders.

"Actually, I just started my own clothing line."

They tried to restrain their laughter. "Who…who other than you could pull off a look like this?" asked Mark.

"Who would want to?" seconded Roger.

"For your information, I started this line not for me…but for someone else who valued unique fashion."

"Who?" asked Mark.

"Angel." Roger felt an involuntary smile form on his face. He praised her for showing her caring side through something even if it was as outrageous as an over-stylish line of wardrobe. She may have become more self-absorbed, but her love became stronger as well. It was strange, but then what else wasn't in this life?

"That's what it's called. Angel's One Thousand Sweet Kisses. Angel's Kisses for short."

"You sound very happy and successful," complimented Mark. Roger giggled. He was never good at compliments.

"You look like you're doing well too, award-winning director," she said seductively. Uh-oh, there went that sexy tone Mark had never gotten over. Roger waited patiently for his reaction.

"You haven't changed at all," he said. Roger took a double take at Mark. He thought his buddy would fall for her all over again. Hmm…

"What is that suppose to mean?" she demanded.

"Nothing-"

"You know, maybe staying the same isn't such a bad thing-"

"You guys, cool it," said Roger. "Can we have a decent meeting where none of us is fighting?" His cell phone suddenly rang. Roger checked it quickly. Mimi. Roger excused himself into Mark's bedroom but warned them not to kill each other until they had a referee to pick up the pieces. He took the call closing Mark's bedroom door behind him.

"Mimi?"

"Roger? Roger, you're alone right?"

"Um, at the moment, yeah. I'm at Mark's, why?"

"Mark, he's back?"

"Yeah, and you wouldn't believed who came by. Maureen."

"Maureen is there?"

"Yeah I know- you should see her, she's-"

"Oh God."

"Mimi, what is it?"

"Roger go back. If you don't, they'll kill each other."

"Don't act so overdramatic, Mimi, they're adults, they can handle it."

"No, you don't understand. We just got…in the hospital, she just came in. And Maureen's going to rub it in his face, I know she is. She won't get violent, but you know how she is. Mark's already in bad shape-"

"Mimi, slow down. What happened?"

"Audrey's dead."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Roger, I can't let her go-" started Andrew but was interrupted.

"Let her go," he repeated.

Andrew glanced at his sister reluctantly, then at his uncle. His uncle nodded and Andrew unclasped the handcuffs and walked back to where Candy and Linda were standing. Candy looked at his eyes, full of fire and regret.

"I shouldn't have done that," he muttered.

"A reporter's oath is just as bendable," she said to him. "You did what you had to do."

Candy's dad brought Maureen to the sofa as she shivered through her silent sobs. Roger tried to calm her down, but she stubbornly insisted on being mute. He turned to Mark for an explanation.

"We just got into an argument. It wasn't anything serious," said Mark.

"The woman threatened you with the jagged piece of glass," said Andrew.

"Trust me, that's nothing," said Mark. He held his hand up before Andrew could press on. "I know you have your duty, but please just let us handle this. I'm fine, I swear to you." He leaned toward Angela. "I'm fine, Angela." Angela slowly backed away to give her father some room. She walked over to Candy and gave her the same look she had on. Candy wanted to know what was going on.

"Maureen, you didn't have to tell him she was dead," said Roger. Everyone looked at Maureen, waiting for an answer.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"You could have at least been sensitive about it," continued Roger.

"Who died?" asked Mark.

"You don't know?" asked Roger.

"Roger, what are you talking about?"

"Audrey." He stopped. Candy could tell that her father didn't want to press any further so he stayed silent. He looked at Maureen in a confused gaze.

"Audrey's dead?" whispered Mark. "Maureen, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't know," said Maureen.

"How couldn't you have known, Mimi just called and told me-"

"Mimi?"

"Hold on a second!" said Angela. "Can someone please give us the courtesy of knowing what's going on, who this is-" she gestured to Maureen. "- and who Audrey was?"

Candy watched as her father and Maureen both turned to Mark for an answer. Everything was moving a bit too quickly. An unknown name, an unfamiliar face... how was it that the names Maureen or Audrey were new to her? They were heard in their household. They were definitely not good friends of her dad's or else he would have talked about them more. He held friendship high in his list. Candy felt a bit discomfited as her father stood up, gesturing Maureen out the door.

"I think you need to leave Maureen. We'll keep in touch," he said. Maureen looked at him, surprised, almost shocked that she had been dismissed. She didn't say anything more though and reluctantly glanced over at Mark who looked straight ahead with an expressionless face. She walked away, and Candy saw her father wave his hand for her to come over.

"We need to talk. And I think you two need to talk as well," he said to Mark. Linda quickly reacted.

"We'll be on our way then," she said grabbing her brother's arm and leading him out the door.

"Yeah, but-" he started to protest but quickly pulled back when Linda shot him a look. They left quietly and Candy remained as confused as ever.

"Come on baby," said her father, "I'll explain on the way." Candy gazed into her father's eyes, full of genuineness and seriousness. A gaze she had never seen her father before because he was usually so light-humored and funny. They went back into their apartment where the candlelight began to dim from around the room. They switched the lights on which had come back during their absence.

"Sit," he said softly. Candy couldn't get use to him this way. She was waiting for him to burst into a parody of Puccini's Boheme. She sat on their sofa, and he took his seat beside her.

"I think we're ready to tell you how me and your mom got AIDS," he said lowly.

"From Audrey?" asked Candy absent-mindedly. She assumed it had to do with her.

"No, no," he said. "She's a different story, but… I need to tell your more about the past before we get into her."

"We're not going to wait for mom?"

"I already talked with her. She said that she'll have a talk with you later tonight, okay?" Candy nodded and she let him go on. He took a deep breath. "I met your mom when she was nineteen. We… we weren't the type of people you'd see around here. We lived in the East Village."

"The East Village?" repeated Candy, jaw-dropped. "Didn't grand-"

"We didn't look to our parents for help. We wanted to make it on our own."

Candy scooted in her seat. "So you guys were in love and defied your parents by moving to the East Village."

"No, not so fairy tale-ish," he said with a laugh. "I was rooming with Mark when I met your mom. I wasn't in the best of shape- I wanted to become a rock star but a few things sort of… weighed me down."

"AIDS…"

"Partly. Before your mom, I was… I was in love with another girl." He stopped suddenly. It looked as if he was about to choke up, like it was difficult to go on. He turned away and leaned forward.

"Daddy, is she important?" She didn't want to see him hurt. She didn't need to know anything her parents prevented from telling her. She didn't want to know, not at a cost to see her father hurt.

"She was probably the one who gave me AIDS," he whispered. "But there were so many factors. I could have had it and didn't know. I was a junkie, I could-"

"A what?"

"Junkie…" he paused and turned to her, then smiled. He took another breath. "Smack. Drugs. I did them all."

"You what?" She almost felt heart-broken, but didn't exactly know why. She wasn't sure if it was sympathy or disgust, or if she just felt betrayed, but she couldn't believe her father was a drug addict. It just didn't seem like him. It didn't seem like he would be the type to share needles, and sniff crack, and…

He shook his head. "The rush was unbelievable. But I had to pay for it later. Anyway, I had quit once I met your mom. She was still on it though-"

"She was a junkie too?"

"Yeah, she was. Candelyn, we weren't the best people growing up. We had good intentions, but what we had to do to survive, to get by… we had to escape some how. We hardly had food on the table, and all we could focus on was living the moment-"

"But didn't you worry about what was going to happen to your future?"

He shook his head. "Not at the time. We figured, we're going to die anyway, we might as well make the most of right now."

Candelyn looked down. She had never really thought of it that way. She too knew that she was going to die. Did it matter whether she wanted to be a big opera singer or ballet dancer if she was just going to tire herself out and die later? But she couldn't possibly live that way. She knew that she had time, but her parents' story corroborated the fact that there wasn't any time like the present. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do now. What am I supposed do, she thought desperately.

"Now don't start thinking that your life's a waste," her father said. "I know we thought differently then than we do now, but the times are different for you. Circumstances are different, better even."

Candy just nodded and continued to look down. "So who was Audrey?"

"Audrey was the woman Mark got involved with for half a year or so. They were sort of in love, I guess, if you can call what they had love. They didn't have a lot of chemistry, but he hung on to her like glue and she didn't have the heart to turn him down. Then they had Angela."

"Hold on." For as long as she's known Angela, she was always told that her mother died when she gave birth to her. Angela had always wanted to know about her mother, but never got the chance to. If she ever found out that she was still alive, she would have a fit with her father. Although she guessed that it would be soon enough that she'd discover the truth. Still, Candy was confused on why they just wouldn't tell Angela that her mother was still alive.

"Why say Audrey was dead?"

"Mark didn't want to tell Angela that she had a mother who didn't want a thing to do with her," he said. "It would hurt her and Mark couldn't live with that."

Candy felt slightly upset. "So the truth just comes out…"

"We would have had to told you sooner or later. And with you coming in to see Maureen acting… well, like Maureen, and then the name Audrey popping up- it would have been complicated covering it up and we hated to continue going on that way."

"So you waited this long to tell me the truth? You've been lying to me all this time?"

"No, no. Don't get upset. We didn't lie to you, we just thought it was best for you not to know about how things were. Look how great you turned out."

"All because of a lie." She felt horrible now. Didn't her parents think that she would understand? Maybe she'd have a better understanding of how life was for her parents, and thus a better understanding of herself, her roots. All this time, she always thought she was brought up well, but now she wasn't sure. She was curious and a bit… disappointed.

"We worked hard for all this Candelyn, don't think differently," her father said. "Our past doesn't matter."

"You changed so much…"

"For you. For our family," he reassured. "And we're happy."

Candy smiled and nodded, but inside there was this feeling of remorse. Her existence could have been the cause of their change, but why didn't she feel like it was for the better? She got up to go to her room to think, but then turned back.

"Who's Maureen?"

"Maureen Johnson." He laughed. "She's on Broadway, on and off Hollywood. She used to be Mark's old girlfriend before she turned lesbian. She hated Audrey."

"Was it because they were together?"

"Not too sure. I never understood her, only that she was crazy. She was always causing some sort of disturbance or riot. Luckily, she's put all that into something constructive."

"Actually, her clothes were an obstruction to my vision."

He laughed. "You've got my sense of humor. I meant her career."

"If you don't mind dad, I'm gonna hang in my room for a while okay?"

"Well, I was thinking we could have dinner later on since you'll be leaving in a week to that school…?"

"I'm not feeling much of an appetite." She walked into her room, blowing out one of the candles on her way. She shut her door and flopped herself onto her queen-sized bed colored in soft pink. She buried her face in one of her feather pillows and sighed. What was life like back then? She tried to think, but she couldn't picture it. She tried to convince herself that they were happier now, but this unknown feeling kept creeping up telling her otherwise. Why did she have this weird intuition? She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling filled with glow-in-the-dark stars. She soon fell asleep under the Milky Way.

Someone nudged her gently and she woke up slightly annoyed. She blinked a few times and saw her mom staring back at her. Her full lips smiled at her, and her long curly hair dangled from her face.

"Hello hija, sleeping well?" Candy looked into her round, brown eyes. "Doin' okay?"

"Fine, mamá," said Candy sitting up. She laid her head on her mother's lap who sat her legs on top of her bed. Her mother untied Candy's hair and started combing it with her fingers. She petted her softly and Candy suddenly felt home-sick even though she had a week left before she actually moved out.

"Are you sure you want to transfer?"

"Opera and ballet mommy," she said. "It's what I want."

"I know." She kissed the top of her forehead. "You and your father talk?"

"Yeah," she replied softly. "Almost unreal."

"It'll sink in. Do you have any… questions?"

Candy shrugged. What was she supposed to ask? "It's just hard to accept the way you were, and why you never told me."

"I'm sorry, baby. But we didn't want to feed you those thoughts. We wanted you to think about your future. We did the exact opposite."

Candy gulped. She wanted to say it, but was fighting her conscience. But she had to know. "Why did you do drugs?"

She sighed. "All my friends did it. Now, don't give me that. I was young. I used to live every day as if it was my last day."

"How do you live it now?"

"I live it…. as if I can't wait for tomorrow," she said, "because tomorrow always brings you." She hugged her tightly. "You don't know how much we love you."

"I do," she said hugging her back. "How did you become a nurse?" For some reason that profession didn't fit when her mother was once a druggie.

"I didn't finish high school until I was 23. I dropped out then came back, and when I came back I decided I wanted to help others like me."

"What did you do in between? Why did you drop?" Another shocker. It was so unlike her parents.

"I uh… I…" she was afraid that her mother wouldn't say it. She was twenty-one, she'd at least hope they'd talk to her like an adult. "I was a stripper. At the Cat Scratch Club…"

"You stripped?" Candy sat up and looked at her mother in the eye. What kind of life did she live if she had to resort to that? They continued to talk through the night, and Candy learned more about her mother and father. She learned about the three way triangle they had with another man named Benny. She learned a bit about a cross dresser named Angel and all the other friends she had. The friends her parents had now were nothing like she had described about her past friends. Why did they break apart then? Was Candy the fault of losing what she perceived as such great friends? What was this other life? There were a few times during their conversation where Candy had to pause and think for a moment because she just couldn't face it. For her, it was a difficult thing to swallow.

Hours into the night, her father finally interrupted, asking why there was an empty place beside him in bed. Her mother smiled, and told Candy that she should be getting some sleep. It was nearly 5a.m.

"Go ahead and sleep for the rest of the day. We have a dinner date with Maureen later tonight," said her mother.

"How did that happen?" her father asked.

"She dropped by the hospital to ask about Audrey, and we started talking. She invited us to Angie's to catch up."

"She still wants to keep in touch with the little people?"

"She has a big heart and you know that. She wanted our kids along." She looked at Candy who nodded sleepily.

"G'night," said her mother kissing her cheek. She got off her bed and her father kissed the top of her head. Candy started feeling her eyelids droop and the last she saw was her father and mother leaving her room. But now it felt more like two strangers with a broken past.


End file.
